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If you follow me on social media, you know that the yoga studio I call home closed suddenly.   I have made it known how I feel about the manner in which the studio closed- it lacked integrity, transparency and any bit of advance notice.  It felt violent and I have been going through moments of anger, disappointment and disillusionment.  

When COVID-19 hit Charlotte, our studio created a Facebook page that teachers, clients and any others who wished to be kept abreast of what happened at that studio could join. We frequently posted pictures and some teachers shared posts of what classes they were teaching on Zoom.  Although only a small percentage of the entire studio belonged to the Facebook page, it was nice connecting to some during this uncertain time. 

Fast forward to the closing of the studio.  The way in which the closing was announced caused some to come unhinged really.  The studio was the sole source of income for some, and a nice second income for others.  Frustrated with the powerlessness of the situation, many took our critiques of the owner’s method of closing to social media.  The studio owner is a well-connected woman of means, and there was some criticism of how she seemingly walked away from the studio and was now updating her home as chronicled on social media.  A post was made on the studio Facebook page by a former employee about this discovery.  Many shared his disappointment and showed up “below the line.” I’m not disappointed about people grieving in a less-than-beautiful way.  What was jarring was a lone internet ranger, coming to the defense of the studio owner.  Nobody knew who this dude was.  He clearly was affiliated with the studio owner in some way, because he lacked the compassion and understanding permeated the studio.  He kept talking about “businesses” and “how they fail” and how “she can do what she wants.. It's her RIGHT!!!”  For a moment, I had to pan out to ensure that I was, in fact, on my yoga studio page and not arguing with some racist as to why Black lives matter.  It felt similar to me.  The manner in which the argument was structured, the lack of empathy.. It felt all too familiar. 

What was the weirdest thing was that when I returned to the page, my comments, the lone ranger’s comments, and the comments of others had simply been deleted.  It seemed like someone thought that if we erased the conflict, it would be like it *never happened*. It felt bazaar.  We as yogis are supposed to be truth seekers in many ways, and it felt like proverbial correction fluid had been spilled all over the page. 

Later that evening, there was a statement from the owner on the page.  I felt duped in many ways, because all this time, she had never made her presence known on the page.  She hadn’t shared anything.  But as fragility code dictates, as soon as there was bad talk about her, she mysteriously shows, with a statement either written by a soulless being, or by a lawyer.  It was bland and lacked empathy.  It stated that she was the most upset by the decision and wished she could save us from a failing economy and record unemployment. Lol.  She encouraged us to “leeeeeaaan into the discomfort” *eye roll*.  I feel like I have overused the word gaslighting these days, but again, that’s what it felt like.  Like when you ask someone to apologize and they say, “I’m sorry you’re upset.”  
It was also upsetting because it felt like someone had tattled.  Like they had gone to get “mom” and tell her what we said.  It was also disconcerting because it felt like we had lost any space we had. We lost the space to process privately, but together, whether we chose to show up above or below the line.  I remember feeling this way as a child. There were times my parents did something that upset me.  I would be so upset, but they owned everything in the house. If I so much as slammed a door, I was brought back to be reminded that in the grand scheme of things, I had no power.  Then I was dismissed to take the walk to my room yet again, this time closing my door methodically and slowly despite my seething anger. 

That is how this set of interactions felt.  Like I, we had no power anywhere.  Our sacred space was gone and in the midst of our processing we were monitored, and reminded that our response to trauma was unattractive and unsavory.  When we got a little out of pocket, we were brought back, given a generic explanation and sent on our way, this time to lament how a proper southerner would. 

What was most disheartening is people who continue to uphold the status quo.  People who post the “love and light” comments and still, through this enormous loss, seem unable to utter words that build integrity and accountability.  I have realized through the lens of my Blackness, I can’t be silent around matters that are important to me.  I don’t necessarily need to be disrespectful, but in the world of insane tone-policing, I will also say things as they come.  I have self-policed for as long as I knew I was Black.  I’m tired.  I said what I said. 

I am also shaken by the silence that it seems like having lots of money produces.  When someone who has money is out of line, people are unwilling to call them out.  I guess it may be because people with money are deeply connected in the communities where they reside. It seems like people worry that questioning someone who has money(especially publicly) may mean they will lose out on some opportunity.  Maybe even be “sh*tlisted” and actively kept from future endeavors.  So were we all pretending when we talked about integrity?  Did I miss the memo about there being theoretical integrity and integrity as it deals with money?  I don’t know.

What I do know is right is right and wrong is wrong.  Your word is your bond and language that lacks accountability and integrity deserves to be called out.  I know that actions that cause harm should be highlighted and addressed no matter who is behind them. I know that I’m still raw, but I also am wondering if in some way, this has done me a favor.  Normally, people making sounds draw attention to themselves.  I, admittedly, have been louder than usual in these last few weeks.  What I’m noticing though, is how deafening the silence is of others who I hold dear.  I know we’re each on our own path, and I don’t claim to know anyone else’s process, but if you’re quiet when you have personally been transgressed, I surely can’t expect you to stand up for me and other marginalized folks as we navigate this unjust world… which really sucks because we’re exhausted.  

I’m *almost* hopeful about what’s next. 
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